


Too Many Tetchy Pills

by sarkywoman



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, adult!five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: "I don't need sleep"For the 'sleep deprivation' square at badthingshappenbingo. In an AU where Five and Klaus are both with the Agency, Five's determination to solve a problem leads to new problems.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 23
Kudos: 117
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Too Many Tetchy Pills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stabbyumbrella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stabbyumbrella/gifts).

> Five is in his early/mid-twenties, Klaus mid/late-twenties. Five picked him up and they went through the Apocalypse together. Please note the pairing, though there's nothing explicit/sexual in the fic.

Five leans back in his chair, looking again at the calculations. They span numerous pieces of paper that are spread out over the surface of his desk. They don’t add up. He’s been at this for hours today and yesterday (and countless days, weeks and months before that) and the damn numbers still don’t add up.

A little snore draws his gaze over to the bed, where Klaus has crashed out. He had been drifting, rambling and dozing from the drugs in his system but now it looks like he has finally fallen into a proper sleep. Under the warm covers and drooling lightly on the soft pillow.

He looks cosy. Klaus’ temperature changes rapidly depending on his surroundings, his hands and feet turning to ice when he’s out in the cool air, while a sudden warmth can make him dizzy. In the bed Five knows from experience he will be warm and pleasant to embrace. For a long time it was the only tactile pleasure the Apocalypse gave him, in their scavenged blankets and makeshift shelter. So long ago now, but the foundation for everything they have become.

With a whispered curse, Five looks back at his papers. He must be tired to be so easily distracted. His focus is usually sharp as a knife. 

On something this important, it has to be. He has already told Klaus he can make this work and he is not in the habit of disappointing him. Klaus asks for and expects so little. Drugs, the occasional gesture of affection, and food. The rationing of all three has been a process over more than a decade now. Oddly enough, the drugs were the quickest thing to settle. They walk a fine line between addiction and tolerance, with Five responsible for keeping track of his intake. Enough to give him peace, not enough that he’s likely to overdose. Three times it has happened and they are the three worst days of Five’s life.

In a life containing a full Apocalypse, he feels that takes on quite a strong meaning.

The tangential train of thought does give him an idea though. He slides his chair back and the sound of the legs on the Agency’s hard floor makes Klaus stir, though his eyes stay closed.

“Fivey?”

“I’m here.”

“Mmkay.”

That is the entirety of the conversation before Klaus settles down again. Five goes to the safe and inputs the code – the date he has calculated to be the one he snatched Klaus from the timeline.

When the safe door swings open, Five peruses their stash. He keeps it well-organised. Clarity on what is available and what is what helps to avoid accidents. Most of Klaus’ medication is depressant-based, fogging the mind over anything else. He also has some hallucinogenics, some party pills and some methamphetamine-derivatives for when he grows bored or he wants to alleviate a lack of energy. There are bits and pieces they have picked up from their jaunts across time. Five sifts through them until he can touch the back of the safe. At the back at the bottom they have a few things that are more Five’s taste than Klaus’, for when caffeine isn’t enough. 

Pulling out the little bottle, Five closes the safe and takes out a couple of pills. He makes himself a coffee in their little kitchenette and takes it back to his work. He can make this work. He can make the numbers add up. 

He loses himself in theoretical physics and hypotheses and calculations until a black-nailed hand slides over his shoulder and squeezes lightly.

“Hey, you been up all night?”

“I napped,” Five lies. He looks up at Klaus who seems to have only just woken up himself, eyes bleary and hair messy. 

“Naps are good. They’re not enough though.”

“I’ll be fine. You know I don’t need much sleep.”

“You need more than you say you do,” Klaus argues. 

When he shuffles off in his little black robe to the kitchenette, Five asks him for another coffee and Klaus brings one over.

“Still working on the trip home?”

“It can be done,” Five promises. “I’m so close.”

“We’ve waited this long, Fivey. Sooo many years. Wait, what if they don’t recognise us?” Klaus looks stricken by the sudden idea, though Five can’t believe it hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Don’t worry, I’m accounting for the time lapse. We’ll head back to… ideally within a decade after the time I took you. You’ll be recognisable and you can tell them I’m me.”

“Yeah, guess you don’t exactly look like your portrait anymore,” Klaus says with a giggle before ruffling Five’s hair.

Five grumbles and flattens his hair back down. He thinks he still holds some resemblance to his younger self, enough to convince the rest of the Hargreeves, but it is hard to recall. The Apocalypse had few mirrors and even less photographs. He doesn’t remember how he used to look.

“I’m gonna go to the rec area,” Klaus says, stretching in his seat. “You wanna come with? They’ve got real samurai doing some ceremonial thing today. At least I think that’s today.”

“No, I have to finish this. You go have fun. And stay clear of Hazel and Cha-Cha. I’d really hate to have to kill them if they harass you again.”

“Pfft, you would not. You’d love it.” Klaus leans in close, his hands on his knobbly knees. “You want me to provoke them? Give you an excuse?”

“Don’t need an excuse,” Five mutters darkly. Hazel was not such a bad egg on the scale of things, but Klaus and Cha-Cha hated each other from the moment he and Five joined the Agency. Five has nearly killed her once already for harming Klaus, only stopped by the intervention of the Handler, who claimed there was no proof.

He doesn’t need proof. He knows it was her, even if Klaus shrugs it all off as an accident. 

“Okay, well, don’t work too hard. Can I grab some stuff to take?”

With a huff at the continued interruption of his work, Five goes back to the safe. He pulls out a few pills and few little bags. “Do _not_ take all of this.”

“Would I?” Klaus says, fluttering his eyelashes and putting a hand over his heart.

“Absolutely.”

“Ugh, you know me too well.”

Better than anyone, but that went both ways. ‘Codependent’, the Handler calls it. Five calls it ‘pragmatic’. Saving time and energy by falling in love with the only other person left alive in the world, even if it took years to see the feeling to grow into what it is now. 

“I know you well enough.” Five hands the little stash over.

Klaus beams and tucks the contraband into various pockets of the jacket he’s pulled over his nightshirt before planting a kiss on Five’s cheek and bouncing off out the door.

At least Five can get some peace and quiet now. 

Settling back down at the desk he works until the numbers start to blur into each other, at which point he gets another coffee and another pill.

Rinse and repeat.

Time doesn’t have any meaning in the present, it’s only a theoretical matter that he has to wrangle into the right shape. They’re _finally_ in a position where they have the resources and Five is confident he has the ability. So many years. Five has always wanted to go back of course but Klaus had yearned for it, curled up miserable in the rubble and ashes playing with a knife that reminded him of Diego. A feather boa that made him think of Allison. Telling stories of Luther’s softer side and humming songs he remembered from Vanya. Trying so hard to summon Ben, until the remnants of dead humanity smothered his screams and Five had to drug him into calm. 

If not now, when? They will never be better situated to work on this. The Agency has its demands, but it is a standard of living they never could have expected to pop up out of nowhere. Klaus had full-on ignored the Handler when she found them, believing her to be a hallucination at first, then a ghost. Five had needed to convince him.

In the years since then, Five has mostly settled. He sort of misses his family, but his main drive is to save them. Klaus is the sentimental one. Five has to admit he is comfortable in their current holding pattern. Missions of death interspersed with a bizarre almost-domesticity. Klaus is even learning to cook. 

Things will not be the same when they go back.

Is that why he is struggling? Is it an unconscious desire to last out their current circumstances? Post-apocalypse there seemed little to be afraid of. The worst had happened and at least he had Klaus. At least he wasn’t alone. For a long time things could only really improve. Now that they are in reasonable circumstances, they have something to lose. Not much, but… will Klaus stay with him once he has a choice? 

Five curses and gets back to his work. Sentiment really is not where his attention needs to be. They are going back. They are going to save their family. They have discussed it for so long as a ‘what if you could...’ under Apocalypse stars. Now they could, if Five could focus long enough to get his numbers lined up. 

He gets back to work.

Sudden music startles him some time later and he turns back to see Klaus stepping back from the stereo, hips and arms swaying to the beat.

“You’re back early.”

Klaus frowns. “Nuh-uh, I thought you’d be mad. After the show I went and hung out with Hazel. We got baked and got a banquet from the canteen. I brought you cake!”

A box is presented with a flourish and set down on the desk among the stack of papers. Five is surprised to realise how much he has written.

“Anyway, then we fell asleep. Cha-Cha is _pissed_. Apparently they had a job and Hazel’s in no state to go!” Klaus giggles. “Whoops.”

“I told you not to hang around Hazel.”

“Aww, he’s okay. Especially when he’s high. Better than me being here getting on your nerves, right?”

“Guess so.”

Opening the box, Five stares at the sprinkle-covered spongecake. It looks like something a unicorn would excrete. He finds he has no appetite at all. 

It doesn’t seem Klaus notices as he dances back into the middle of their room and moves his arms above his head in an almost-weaving motion, wiggles his hips to a guitar solo. 

“Take a break and dance with me?”

“No.”

“Bring some math and dance with me?”

“Also no.”

“You’re a good dancer,” Klaus pouts.

“Objectively untrue and proven to be so.”

“Nope, I’ve danced with you and it was nice.”

That _is_ a fond memory. Even with the corpses of the goons scattered around the bar. Mission complete and they had indulged themselves, hanging around a little longer than they should have. The Handler had been displeased, but she has a fondness for Five that he takes advantage of. 

“My ability to dance, or lack thereof, was not what made that night special.”

“You danced fine, baby. You’re nearly as tall as me, you could probably dip me all romantically once you’re taller.”

“I’m twenty-four, I don’t think I’m getting any taller, Klaus.”

“Damn Apocalypse malnutrition.”

“Indeed.”

Five watches him dance. When he’s not too high to function, Klaus has a surprising grace to his moves. Only when dancing and when there are no physical objects within a few metres, of course. It puts Five in mind of female musicians whose names he cannot recall, who toyed with a witch aesthetic in their presentation, something natural and free. 

The Agency is no place for Klaus. These same four walls, the occasional event in the staff recreation area. Their jaunts across time provide him with a little adventure but even then there are mission parameters to be observed, rules to be kept to. There are only so many times Five can go off-book with him before the Handler begins to impose more rigid demands. He would really not like to reach a point where more than subtle flirtation is required to stay in her good books. 

As if his thoughts summoned her, there is a rap at the door. Klaus stops dancing and glares at it before stomping over and flinging it open. 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the Handler says warmly, her red lips smiling wide. “I have a job for you.”

“Five’s tired,” Klaus says.

“What’s the job?” Five asks. 

She smirks at Klaus and walks past him to talk to Five. It’s no secret she considers him the brains of the operation. Five and Klaus both know he is, but he does not appreciate her making it so obvious.

“Cha-Cha and Hazel were due to attend a correction today. Unfortunately Hazel has become...” She casts a look at Klaus. “...indisposed. I would send Cha-Cha alone, but you know the amount of paperwork _that_ leads to.”

“She is quite indiscrete,” Five says with a nod of understanding. “You’re requesting me and Klaus attend instead?”

“You, yes.” She looks at Klaus like he’s something stuck to her heel. “If your emotional support junkie needs to attend make sure the mission brief is amended prior to the trip.”

Klaus opens his mouth to say something undoubtedly vile. Five intercepts.

“I assume this is to go ahead immediately?”

“Correct. Go gather the details from Sandra. Poor thing’s been at her wits end with the last-minute derailing of plans. Head out ASAP, report back to me when you’re done.”

A look passes between her and Klaus as she leaves, but Five cannot decipher it. He looks over his work once the door shuts behind her. “Damn. So close.”

“Do you think she understood any of it?” Klaus asks, nervously biting at his thumbnail, getting a speck of black nail varnish on his lower lip.

“What?”

He waves a hand in a gesture to encompass all the work on Five’s desk. “Your mathy stuff. Do you think she looked at it and knows what it’s all for?”

Startlingly, the thought had not even occurred to him. Five stares at all of his sums and diagrams. How could he have thought not to hide it? He goes over the papers that are on top and most visible.

“No, I think… no, she wouldn’t have recognised what this pertains to.”

“Oh good,” Klaus says with visible relief. “That’s why I tried to buy you time at the door, then when you were like, ‘what’s the job?’ I figured you didn’t need to hide it.”

“Right.”

Five starts tidying it all away at any rate. No sense in leaving it out where she can find it while they’re gone. He can take the most vital parts with him to work on wherever/whenever they’re going. 

“Go tell Sandra you’re coming with me.”

“She knows,” Klaus says, waving a hand. “You know she just puts me down as default whenever you’re assigned. She’s good like that.”

“Do you think she’s still harbouring feelings for you? You two were together for a little while before us. I know that was a time ago now...”

The idea makes Klaus laugh. “A _forever_ ago. Don’t worry about it. We’re cool. It was just sex really.”

It makes his jaw clench. Actually, now he thinks about it he’s been grinding his teeth together for a while. Five tries to relax but can’t. 

“Just go check you’re assigned and bring the stuff back? We’ll head out.”

“Are you sure?” Klaus asks, looking concerned. “I mean, we’re travelling in time, it doesn’t really matter when we go. Right?”

“Do you really want to get into the physics of it with me?”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “Somebody’s had too many tetchy pills. But seriously, we can hang back for you to get some sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep. I need you to go and check you’re assigned then bring the stuff back for our mission.”

Finally Klaus obeys with a sigh. The most annoying thing, Five thinks once he’s alone, is that he is not wrong. The pills are starting to lose effect and he needs to be on the ball for the mission. But the quicker they get the mission done, the quicker he can work on his project to get him and Klaus home and avert the Apocalypse. Then he’ll have endless time for naps. 

He grabs a couple more pills, washes them down with the cold coffee. It sloshes in his stomach and he has to rush to the bathroom before Klaus returns. Considering how little he’s eaten, he’s surprised there’s so much to go through him. 

When he gets out, hands scrubbed and face slapped with cold water, Klaus is sitting on the bed trying to select a knitting project. He discards them all when he sees Five and swishes over to him.

“Hey, you okay? Was it the cake?”

Five glances at the box on the table, knowing it contains one uneaten cake. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Poor Fivey. Let me tell the Handler you’re sick. Then we can stay here and you can get some sleep.”

“Stop telling me what to do.”

Klaus’ fingers, skittering over Five’s shoulders, draw back as he pouts. “I’m not telling you what to do.”

“You are. I don’t appreciate it. I’m not a child who needs telling when to nap and when to work. Even when I was younger you were the one who needed that sort of guidance. Not that you ever work.”

“Uh-huh. I assume you don’t need telling when you’re being a little bitch either?”

“If you don’t want to join me on the mission just say.”

As predicted, that shuts Klaus up. He worries when Five goes on a job without him, even though his presence is more distraction and liability than anything. Equally Five doesn’t like leaving him behind, not after overdose number three which happened in this very room while Five was off working. He suspects the Handler would have allowed it to be fatal if Five hadn’t returned early. 

“Can you go and check you’re assigned then bring back the stuff for the mission?” Klaus frowns and Five is rapidly losing patience. “Klaus, I’m serious. We don’t have time for--”

“I did that.” Klaus points to the briefcase and folder by the bed. “You already sent me. Remember?”

“Oh.” Five blinks. “Right.”

The expression of concern on Klaus’ face is annoying so Five ignores it and goes for the folder. He flicks through the pages of the briefing, making sure to adopt an air of serious focus.

Hopefully Klaus doesn’t notice when he has to flick back and start over because he has not taken in a single word.

He picks up the case and Klaus grabs their travel bags and they make their way to the wardrobe department, where Klaus is gleeful at his new red tunic. For himself, Five is satisfied that his cloak will let him harbour as many weapons as required.

“Oh come on,” Klaus says, “how many guns are you gonna need? One modern pistol in the Medieval times is going to be more firepower than the whole of Ireland combined.”

“Which is exactly why I can’t take guns,” Five points out. “Grab me a knife case.”

Klaus does. He sighs when Five opens it up and checks the available blades. No doubt his thoughts are on their stabbier brother. Klaus misses Diego the most, has often spoken of how often their brother tried to save him from himself. How Diego must think he’s dead, no matter how often Five reminds him that they’re all dead now anyway. _ ‘But before they died, Fivey. Dee must have spent so long looking for my body. Poor bastard.’ _

They soon make their way across time with the briefcase. Five does not dare try to teleport in time until he has his calculations figured out. It’s too dangerous. It horrifies him sometimes how unknowingly lucky he was when he snatched up Klaus. It was impulsive when they saw each other and it is only after thorough study that Five understands how badly it could have gone wrong. 

Missions so far back are rare and are nearly always part of a long-term ongoing clean-up project made necessary by previous failed missions. There are few jobs in the world with such severe consequences for fucking up. 

“It’s fucking cold,” he grumbles once they settle into the hovel that serves as their accommodation for this trip. 

“You think?” Klaus asks, cutting himself a line on a suspicious-looking piece of wooden shelving with a hole cut into it. “I’m warm enough. It stinks though.”

After watching him snort his drugs, Five says, “I’m pretty sure that’s a toilet.”

“Not the first toilet I’ve done drugs off.”

“Wait here while I go around town and perform reconnaisance.”

“Aw come on, I forgot my knitting and there’s nothing here but a bed and a toilet-drug-shelf!”

Five looks around, hoping to see something to prove him wrong, but he is absolutely correct. The bed takes up most of the little room. At least it looks comfortable, covered in thick hand-made blankets. 

“If you come with me you have to be quiet. I don’t want you burned as a witch.”

“Last time people tried to burn me at the stake you saved me.”

“I’d rather not have to do it again. I’m very tired.”

It occurs to him that is rather an understatement. He is completely _exhausted_. His limbs feel heavy and slow. He has a headache that won’t go away. His arms ache. His stomach is still gurgling unhappily. No chance to be precious about it now, though. They have a job to do. He grabs his pills, secreted under his cloak, and takes a couple more.

“Fivey...”

“What?” Five snaps.

“Don’t you want a nap before we go out? That bed looks really cosy.”

“So stay if you want to sleep in it.”

He is out of the door by the time he has finished his sentence, but Klaus is hot on his heels, joining him in the cool early evening air.

“Nope, not getting rid of me that easy.”

Klaus takes his hand and Five snatches it away.

“Be conscious of body language,” he reminds him.

“You always say that when we’re working,” Klaus whines.

“Because it’s important. Watch the natives of this time, see what the social norms are. Imitate. Blend in.”

Easier said than done, of course. Five fancies himself non-descript enough that it is not difficult to hide in a crowd. He has mussed his hair and donned appropriate clothing for the time period and it does the trick. Klaus on the other hand…

While Five accepts and acknowledges his own bias, he still believes that Klaus is beautiful from the most objective position one could take on the matter. More than once they were able to use him as bait on a job when their targets seemed so inclined. It made Five’s work easier – both in the sense that the targets then had their guard down and in the sense that it made him _really_ want to kill them for thinking of his Klaus in that way. 

Luckily most of the folk they see are as pale-skinned as him so he doesn’t stand out in that regard like he does in some of the times they visit. The eyeliner is still an issue though. It should have been removed. Five forgot. He doesn’t normally forget details like that.

They spend a few hours getting their bearings, learning details from the locals and formulating a plan on where to locate and accost their target. Each venture to this time period needs to be more subtle than the last to clean up the mess. They cannot risk being caught or making the death too suspicious. 

Ending their night in a tavern, Five watches Klaus finish off both their drinks. They are both being watched avidly by the other people there. Strangers were not common in this town, though Five thinks their cover as English nobles is holding strong. As Klaus has already mentioned, it does not make them well-_liked_, but Five reminded him they do not need to be liked. They simply need to not be seen as dangerous.

“You winked at the blacksmith earlier.”

“Oh, you saw that? Couldn’t help myself. So rugged. I was only teasing.”

“Don’t. He didn’t look pleased.”

Klaus’ tipsy giggle is annoying in the context. Sometimes he can be an unexpectedly valuable asset on jobs, especially when a ghost or two slips through with vital information. Then there are occasions like this when he doesn’t seem to take it seriously at all. 

“I thought he did. Probably thought his ship came in. History was a lot gayer than people think, you know.”

“Of course I know, we’ve seen enough of it firsthand.” Five is rolling the empty ceramic tankard back and forth across the surface of the wooden bench. “Do you plan on sleeping with him?” He can imagine it, Klaus and some filthy brawny blacksmith over an anvil.

“What?” Klaus looks incredulous. “Five, what the fuck?”

“You’ve got a little...” Five gestures at where his beard would be (if he weren’t clean-shaven) to indicate Klaus has specks of the murky drink on his. Clean-shaven was probably a mistake too now he thinks on it, though there was no time to prepare otherwise.

He may have rushed into this one without thinking.

Klaus wipes his face on the sleeve of his red tunic and glares at him again. “Okay, you know I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what you were saying!”

Five thinks back. Oh. Right. Yes. “You probably wouldn’t.” When Klaus reaches for him he says, “don’t be overfamiliar in public here.”

The hand draws back. He is still wearing black nail varnish, Five realises. What a mess.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he says, “I have a headache.”

“Should we head back?”

“Probably.”

As he vacates his seat and walks away, Klaus grabs the clay tankards and hands them back to the barmaid with a smile and a “grazie.”

Fucking _grazie_. In Medieval Ireland.

Outside the path has just enough cobblestones to trip the unwary, but Klaus catches up with him as he stomps away.

“Hey grouchy.”

“We’re working.”

“You’re working. I’m supporting. Assisting, if you will.”

Five’s scoff seems to offend.

“I am! I was fishing for information!”

“You were drawing attention.”

“Well I can’t help being sexy. Will you lighten up? When we get back to the hovel you really need to get some sleep.”

He grabs for Five’s hand again. Five snatches it back.

“We are in public in fucking Medieval Ireland, can you stop being so stupid for five minutes?”

Crossed arms and a pout are Klaus’ responses. And a muttered, “this is why I wanna fuck the blacksmith.”

Five grabs his arm and drags him into a space between two short buildings. Shoves him against the wall with the hand not clutching his arm. “Stop being spoilt. You know damn well if you fuck him I’ll have to kill him on principle and we are here to tidy up the timeline, not make more of a mess!”

Klaus smiles. “You’re so hot when you’re jealous.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what makes it work for me.”

He throws Klaus’ arm down with a growl.

“Ow.”

“Shut up. Let’s get back.”

They walk in silence all the way back. Klaus may be in a world of his own, but Five is being vigilant. He’s pretty sure they are being followed. Maybe just watched. He tries to be subtle about looking around. 

There’s a movement as someone seems to dart away around a corner. Could be nothing.

It’s so rarely nothing. Five gets a hand under his cloak onto one of his knives. 

But they make it back to their accommodation in one piece. The owner puffs on his pipe and eyes them steadily and unafraid as they pass through. Even Klaus doesn’t try to greet him, staying quiet as they go through into their shared room.

The silence ends when the door closes. 

“It’s one of those things, Fivey. Different eras and places have different ideas of what constitutes weird intimacy. I mean, they accept that we’re sharing the bed as two chill travellers.”

“Maybe they don’t.”

With a shrug Klaus says, “we might as well fuck then.”

“Go to sleep, Klaus.”

Five settles at the edge of the bed and begins pulling his papers out from where he had hidden them beneath it. 

“Why don’t _you_ go to sleep?”

“I’m going to get some work done and keep watch.”

“I can keep watch.”

Klaus clambers onto the bed behind Five and rests his chin on his shoulder. His arms go around his middle. Five relaxes back into the embrace a little, because how can he not? Klaus has been the only softness in his world for so long.

Exactly why he shouldn’t be endangered.

“No, you sleep Klaus. I have a lot of work to do before we go out tomorrow.”

Although Klaus lets him go, he does not move far away and Five glances over his shoulder to see a strange look on his face. 

“What?”

“Five… what did you just say?”

“I said I have a lot of work to do before we go out tomorrow.”

Slowly Klaus nods. “Yeah… that makes more sense. You’re normally so picky about word order but the first time you said that it was totally garbled.”

“Look, I’m a little tired so sorry if I’m mumbling, but--”

“You said ‘sleep you sleep Klaus, I’ve a work a lot before tomorrow’. Like, I got what you were saying but that’s not like you.”

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” Five plucks the pill bottle from his pocket and frowns to see only five little pills left. “Have you been helping yourself?”

“No.”

“You’re not supposed to dose yourself, you _know_ that! How many did you take?”

“None!”

Five gets up from the bed so that he is not trying to glare back over his shoulder. Klaus doesn’t _look_ pepped, but he has that look on his face like he’s worried Five is onto him.

“Do you understand you’re endangering our mission?”

Klaus ticks off on his fingers as he talks. “One – I don’t care about our missions. Never have, never will. You know that. Two – I didn’t steal your pills--”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“--I stole a little baggie from the safe before we left and that’s suiting me just fine, thanks.”

“But… you figured out the safe code?”

“Ha, no, you left it open because of point three – you need _sleep_,” Klaus says with a glare. “You’re acting crazy! You’ve been popping those pills like candy and the last time this happened we ended up surrounded by corpses and don’t get me wrong, that was amazing, but probably not what you’re after on this outing.”

“I’m not.”

“Well then--”

“Not popping pills like candy or acting crazy. Stop projecting and go to sleep.”

Klaus sighs. “A little nap, maybe?”

“SLEEP!”

There’s a thump at the door. Five glares at Klaus, who glares back. Five ensures he has a knife ready then goes to the door. It’s the grumpy-looking man from the front room, who tells them firmly that no noise is permitted at this time of night. Klaus apologises profusely. Five simply meets the man stare for stare until he leaves.

“Please just go to bed,” he says to Klaus once the door closes again. He works better without Klaus distracting him. 

“Ugh, fine. But don’t blame me when your brain and testicles shrink from lack of sleep.”

“I don’t think that’s what happens.”

“We’ll soon find out!” Klaus says cheerily, then strips off and gets under the copious blankets, facing away from Five. Clearly in a mood. Whatever. Five can fix that later easily enough.

He gets back to his work. Numbers are not so high-maintenance as Klaus. When they start to blur and dance off of the page he takes another pill and follows them. One benefit of his continued sleep-avoidance is how it widens his mental horizons, much in the same way some of Klaus’ drugs have done for him in the past. It enables him to visualise rather than simply hypothesise, a valuable approach when one is contemplating trans-temporal teleportation physics. 

Five’s work has taken him to the far side of the room nearer the ‘toilet-shelf’ when a sound interrupts an inspired train of thought.

The candle casts as much shadow as light, the flame flickering as he looks around the room. Far too many shadows, too much darkness. If someone infiltrated the room he would never notice until it was too late. 

In a blink he teleports to the bedside. A thin gap in the shutters of the little window allows for moonlight to draw a line over Klaus’ sleeping face. Five strokes his cheek gently, glad to see him safe and where he should be. 

But that means the noise is still unexplained.

Sliding his hand into his cloak, Five draws out a knife and moves around the bed towards the door. Creeps slowly across the floorboards.

A shadow moves. He thrusts the blade out.

Nothing. 

Sound behind him!

Teleportation is an instinct and he darts back, grabs the shadowy form and slams it to the floor. Knife to the throat.

“Who are you?!”

“Five, stop!”

Five gets up, drags his target upright into the light of the candle. Klaus looks terrified and Five lets go of his tunic collar.

“Klaus...”

“What the _fuck_? What the actual fuck?!”

“I didn’t know it was you...”

His knife clatters to the floor, his hand suddenly not wanting to hold it. He had pressed a knife to _Klaus’_ throat. His Klaus… 

“Well I’d hope not!” Klaus bends down and snatches the knife up.

“Why are you out of bed?”

“Because I woke up and saw you creeping around the room like a serial killer who wears other people’s faces? And when I called you you didn’t answer me?” Klaus huffs. “Go to bed.”

Five shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I’m so close to answers.”

“Yeah, I can see that...” Klaus says sceptically, wrinkling his nose and looking past Five at something.

In the parts of the room touched by candlelight, Five can see his equations drawn across the walls in chalk. 

“Ran out of paper.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Look. Klaus--”

The knife is waved in his face. “If you don’t get your ass into that bed right now I’m fucking tranquillising you.”

“Inadvisable with the amount of other drugs in my bloodstream.”

“Ooh, look at me,” Klaus says in a simpering voice. “I’m someone who only does advisable things!” The voice goes away. “Don’t push me, babe.”

Grumbling, Five walks past him and heads to the bed. He relents because his Math is probably off, in the circumstances. He will have to recheck it when his head is clear. Not to mention the way everything keeps going wobbly, the numbers drifting like objects do in the distance on hot hazy days.

He tries very hard not to think about the fact that he nearly slit Klaus’ throat, even though honestly it’s the only thing that makes him surrender to Klaus’ demands.

As he passes the bed he notices a dark shape. A perspective trick? Lack of sleep causing hallucinations?

It jumps at him. He stumbles back, reflexes off and confused.

He’s grabbed from behind and shoved aside, landing on the bed as Klaus stabs the attacker. It’s clumsy - Klaus is no assassin - but after yanking the knife back from the stab to the chest Klaus goes for the throat then the eye then the chest again. The man’s scream quickly turns to a gurgle, then he falls back to the ground. He squirms for a minute, then goes still. 

Klaus runs a hand back through his hair and huffs. “Well.” Then after a few seconds says, “huh.”

With wobbly limbs, Five gets up from the bed and goes to fetch the candle. The flame quivers as he brings it back with shaking hands, the candle rattling in its holder as he holds the light near their dead attacker.

“It’s him, the target. He must have found out we were looking for him.”

“What? How? He’s a medieval peasant! What the fuck?”

“Did you even read the briefing?”

This close with the candle, Five can see Klaus has smudged blood across his own forehead. Klaus crosses his arms.

“I think you know that I did not.”

“He’s a rogue agent. Why did you think the timeline was a mess?”

“Sometimes it just be like that.”

Five pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s getting a headache. “You’re incredible.”

“Why thank you.”

There is a banging at the door. Their esteemed hosts, no doubt. And here they are with a corpse.

It feels like an age that Five stands there trying to figure out what to do, vaguely conscious of Klaus moving about the place behind him.

The briefcase and mission folder hits him in the chest. “Ow.”

“Come on, let’s go!”

At Klaus’ command, Five opens the briefcase and they both reappear in the Agency. The Handler is already standing by the door waiting for them.

She does not look impressed.

“My office. _Now_.”

They exchange a look – Klaus is still covered in blood. Even though the tunic is red, it stands out. But the Handler is clearly in no mood to be kept waiting.

Unsurprisingly, the mission review is not a positive one. The death was supposed to appear accidental. Instead two English noblemen, one of them possibly a witch, visited the town and murdered a beloved man in some sort of strange ritual. 

“We’re going to need _another_ trip to clean up the extra mess you two have made!” The Handler shouts, banging her hand on the desk. “Clarence going native there was bad enough but you left _advanced physics written on the walls_!” 

She pulls out a cigarette in her holder and Klaus helpfully leans forward to light it. The Handler allows it, though she wrinkles her nose when she notices the hand holding the lighter is covered in blood.

“In future,” she says, “_Five_ takes care of the killing. He has finesse.”

“Sorry,” they say in unison.

“Get out. Go clean yourselves up. You’re barely getting paid for this, just so you know. What a fucking mess.”

“Which one of us did they think was the witch?” Klaus asks.

“OUT.”

Klaus adopts a meek expression until they are out of her office and Five never wore an expression other than extreme apathy. He does not believe in encouraging chiding through reacting to it. 

“Thanks,” he says as they walk to their room.

“Huh?” Klaus blinks at the gratitude. “For what?”

Ugh, he is going to make Five say it. “Putting up with me the last few days. I may have been… difficult.”

He does not expect Klaus to crack up. It wasn’t a joke. 

“Oh Fivey.” Klaus ruffles his hair. “You’re always difficult. Besides, you’re gonna sleep until you feel all better.”

“But I’m so near to a revelation on the--”

“I will _burn_ your work,” Klaus says firmly.

Five sighs and it is only as they reach their room that he realises something. “Shit. I left my papers in Ireland.”

“Well then, you’d better hope you dream up those numbers again while you’re asleep,” Klaus says, closing the door. He starts stripping immediately, dropping his bloody clothes in a trail that leads to the bathroom. “It’ll be nice to use a toilet that doesn’t double as a table.”

With a huff, Five sits on their bed. Then lays down. His head is killing him. He tries to recall what was in the last nine or so papers that had brought him so near to a resolution of some conflicting principles. Numbers dance through his brain. Not as nicely as Klaus dances of course, when he’s not too wasted. Like he had danced in the jazz club in that one mission. Hair grown out a little, feather in a headband, clean-shaven and kohl smudged around his eyes, nobody questioned his right to be in a pretty dress despite the year. Dark painted lips and Five had sat at the bar drinking and watching him move. Refusing over and over to dance until after the job was done. Stepping over corpses to put a needle on a record then taking Klaus’ hand in his. Dancing close, the last two people alive just as it had been at the end of the world. It always comes back to this.

When Five wakes up, Klaus is curled up asleep against him. Five’s shoes and trousers have been removed and his shirt unbuttoned for comfort. Klaus is in his little black nightshirt, the blood all scrubbed away.

By his estimate, he has slept for about nine hours. He looks around and his gaze falls on the mission briefing folder Klaus has left on the nightstand. Why has he kept that? Five reaches out and opens the cover.

Sees his pages of equations neatly enclosed. A little post-it note inside the cover reads:

‘**Warning: Math can be hazardous to your health! Take regular breaks for sleep and art and Klaus-appreciation**’

Smiling, Five lets the file fall closed. Nuzzles Klaus’ curls. 

They have time. Klaus and time, it’s all Five has.

Perhaps it’s all he needs.


End file.
